


The Saint's Case

by ElectroPoisonWaves



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Action/Adventure, Ass-Kicking, Blindness, F/M, First Love, Gen, Identity Reveal, Kisses, Original villain - Freeform, Puppy Love, Romance, Slow Build, Super Villains, Superheroes, Teen Romance, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-06-03 21:45:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6627703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectroPoisonWaves/pseuds/ElectroPoisonWaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been two weeks since an akuma attack. Marinette has caught up in her homework, and poor Cat Noir has been desperately seeking her out-- because, well, two weeks without Ladybug. </p>
<p>But soon a new villain appears, and he's unlike any they've encountered before. He's secretive and hard to pin down and his power is one that threatens to reveal Ladybug and Cat Noir as who they really are, not just to each other, but to their greatest enemy.</p>
<p>Secrets will be stolen, and this time Hawkmoth will not be making mistakes. </p>
<p>P.S. In this story, Hawkmoth and Gabriel Agreste are one and the same. Because I think it's pretty obvious but not technically canon (yet) I'm just putting this out there.</p>
<p>Updated every Friday, PST.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Price of a Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> I know you're here for Lady Noir/Ladrien/Adrienette/all the ship names, but you can't have a good romance without some substance behind it, can you?? Here's the substance.  
> I have the story planned out, but I just don't know how long it will be. Sorry the formatting sucks, still getting used to this site.

Prologue

     Gabriel Agreste stood in front of his wife’s portrait. He had been standing there for a solid hour, at least. His feet were beginning to hurt, but he didn’t budge. He wouldn’t let himself until he came up with a plan.The ache kept him grounded. He needed to figure this out once and for all. His desperation to get ladybug’s and cat noir’s miraculouses so far had been sloppy.  
Every single person he threw at them had been easily foiled. Embarrassingly so, actually. The high turnover rate on its own was already hard to deal with. Every single time he had to start afresh—scan Paris for people susceptible to corruption, and who ever knew if they would be even worth his time.

  
      If he had conducted his fashion line in the same way he was handling this, he is brand would not have come so far. Like with designing patterns, one had to be accurate and calculated. Everything was accounted for—the type of fabric, the thread, the stitch size, the very grain of the fabric itself—all of it determined the integrity of the finished product. So why was he only using scraps when he searched for people to akumatize? He needed to start from scratch.

  
      There had been an interesting tidbit in that old tome he had read, and if he could find it now (probably Nathalie’s fault; he’d have to ask her about that later) that mentioned an interesting quirk called the Saint’s Case. One of Nooroo’s masters had granted powers to a little girl who could not hear. She retained the ability to hear… and more. She became a miracle, and was eventually even canonized. Those who were physically disabled became more powerful when bestowed with Nooroo’s power.

  
      He really _could_ build his villain from scratch. He just needed to find one that fit the basic requirements and shape them right. He would have his own tailor-made villain—one that would be able to key into his two adversary’s weaknesses. He adjusted his glasses.

  
      If you played your cards just right, in theory you could even craft the situation upon which a person gained their power… and thus, what power they’d come to. It was all just theory, though. He couldn’t let himself get too excited about this prospect.

  
      The door clicked open behind him. Gabriel immediately turned around.  
      “Hi, dad,” Adrien said softly.  
      “Hello, Adrien. Have you eaten yet? I was just about to. Sit with me,” Gabriel instructed, pointing to the table.  
       Adrien didn’t move at first. He looked taken aback, but then almost excited. When was the last time they had sat together and eaten dinner? Adrien must’ve been thinking the same exact thing. They both looked at the portrait on the wall.  
      _Ah,_ Gabriel thought. _That was surely when._ He swallowed back the pain that threatened to rise up his throat.

* * *

 

Chapter 1  
The Price of a Miracle

  
      Tristian had beautiful eyes. In the right shade of light, they looked like weathered sea glass. It was one of the first things people noticed about him. It was a shame, really, because he could never see them.  
      When he was still a child, his mother brought him to the ocean and handed him some sea glass. This was when his father was still around, this time close by, aggressively fussing with the camera. He could hear the camera rewinding film, his father twisting nobs and screwing the lens in.  
Mother reached out and put something in his hand.  
      “This is what your eyes look like,” she said, cupping his palms around it. The sea glass was cold, dull, but soft. It was oddly light, and he felt it between his fingers.  
His mother handed him another. He held them before his face, right above his eyes. His mother’s laughter was high pitched and girlish, exploding joy. And hearing her laugh was like an aphrodisiac. He wanted more. He heard the shutter of the camera.  
      “Tristian, smile for the camera!” His father said. At that moment, Tristian didn’t have to force the smile. He still held the sea glass to his eyes. It came so naturally, and with the ocean at his back, he felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff. But he wasn’t scared.

* * *

  
      “Are you sure you’ll be able to come on your own?” his mother asked, reaching out and pushing a lock of stray brown hair behind his ear.  
      “It’s so simple, mom. It’s not my first time on the subway,” Tristian replied, batting his mother’s hands away. “Besides, you have to be there early to set up. I’d rather not sit around and wait.”  
He could tell his mother was putting lipstick on because he heard her compact click open.  
      “But it’s different, Tris,” she said.  
      “I’m 15. Most kids my age go all sorts of places on their own,” he said. He hoped it didn’t come out as naggy as it sounded in his mind.  
      She shifted uncomfortably in her heels. “Tris—" she began before she her words were broken off by her phone’s angry ring.  
      She looked down at her phone and bit her lip. “It’s Steven. I’m going to have to take this. But I want you to call me as soon as you step out of the subway, okay? Just straight to the museum and back, like we’ve done thousands of times before.”  
      “573 steps to the subway. Another 300 to board the train. Easy.” His mother squeezed his hand and quickly left the room.

  
***

  
      He set his alarm for 6:30 pm. Being late was simply not an option. He would meet his mother at the exit to the train station just by the museum. They would walk together to the exhibition and she would take him around. This wasn’t her first time organizing an exhibition with this company but it was Tristian’s first time showing his work.  
      The first twenty 573 steps to the subway were easy. This was his home. He knew this place. Every single bump in the pavement and all the light poles were thoroughly mapped in his mind. He knew exactly where the bike racks were and how large of a berth to give it. (He could never be sure if there were bikes parked there or not; better be safe than sorry.)  
      When he finally entered the subway it was stuffy and hot, and each floor lower felt even hotter. A man gave his seat to Tristian. Now he only had to wait three stops. It was taking longer than he had remembered, but he calmed himself.  
      _It only feels like it’s taking longer because it’s the first time I’m doing it by myself,_ he thought. The same advertisement had played at least six times already. The jingle was going to get stuck into his head.  
     Third stop. So far so good. He heard the doors slide open, and ambled toward the sound, his cane close by.

     He only knew something was wrong when he finally got off the train and stood in the subway. The air felt different, as if he were in a large room instead of the busy one he was used to. Had he miscounted?  
      _I took the express train,_ he realized. It skipped the Museum stop and made a constant loop back to the far reaches of the city.  
      He had absolutely no idea where he was.  
There was a voice coming from somewhere behind him. Tristian turned, relief flooding his frame. “Excuse me, I took the wrong stop. Could you perhaps bring me to the—“  
“Someone dropped a fox into the pen,” the voice snickered.  
“Huh?” Tristian gripped his cane.  
The person pushed him and smacked his cane out of his hand. Tristian fell to the ground, where he was easily pinned.  
Another man rifled through his pockets, pulling out his wallet. Coins spilled out, and the keys to his house cut into leg.  
      “Where’s your phone?” The voice was gruff. It didn’t waste any words.  
      “I don’t have one,” Tristian lied.  
      One of the men reached into Tristian’s jacket pocket and pulled out his phone.  
      “Fucking liar,” the man said and he punched Tristian hard into his sea-green eyes.  
      His eye was pounding and he could taste hot, metallic blood in his mouth. He wasn’t sure where it was coming from. His entire face felt hot.  
      “Does the kid have any jewelry?” The man fumbled around Tristian’s neck, yanking at the simple leather strap that held a single beaded piece of sea glass. It was one of the same pieces Tristian’s mother had given to him all those years ago.  
      “Worthless,” another replied.  
       Tristian lay still until he was absolutely certain they had left.

***

     Hawkmoth waited until the anger set in.  
     Tristian held his breath for as long as he could. When Hawkmoth spoke, he immediately gasped.  
     “Hello, Private Eye. My name is Hawkmoth,” he paused, letting his words sink in. “Life has dealt you another cruel hand. You don’t deserve this. Where were your heroes? I understand your pain, and I feel like you deserve a second chance. I will grant you the power of deep sight. You can change the cesspool Paris has turned into and finally live the life you’ve always wanted. But in return, you must do something for me.”  
     Tristian felt warmth rising up his body. It immediately left him feeling colder than before.  
     “Of course,” Tristian heard himself say. “I’m all yours, Hawkmoth.”  
      It was bright then. He shielded his eyes and wiped away the tears that were now forming. There was so much around him suddenly and he couldn’t make sense of it.  
      He looked up and saw the bright neon light of a subway map. A face was dimly reflected in its glass. The face was dirty, and the nose covered in blood that coated the lips.  
      Tristian took a deep breath. He was looking at himself.  
      He saw his eyes for the first time and wanted to cry. He released his grip on his necklace and started intently. His mother said his eyes were the color of sea glass.  
      But the little shard around his neck was significantly darker. It was definitely not the same color of his eyes.

* * *

  
      “Absolutely nothing has been happening lately,” Alya said. “It’s been 17 days since Ladybug last made an appearance.”  
      She was flipping through the newest SnapChat filters as she lay on Marinette’s couch. She made a face when she reached the cat filter. “Honestly, I don’t find these endearing. I find them kind of creepy,” she said, facing the phone towards Marinette, as she continued to stare up at her ceiling.  
      Marinette looked up from her sketchpad. Tikki perched just behind her shoulder, looking curiously towards Alya’s phone. She held back a giggle when she saw Marinette’s reflection in the phone. The app then put the dog ears on Tikki’s head. Marinette choked on her own spit.  
      “At this rate, my blog will have to go on hiatus. Hiatus! If that happens, I’m not sure what I’ll do.” She let out an exaggerated sigh. Alya either hadn’t noticed Marinette’s coughing or had just chosen to ignore it.  
      “But isn’t it nice?” Marinette began, when she finally had a hold on her emotions. “Nobody’s been akumatized, and look at all the free time I have now! At this rate I’ll be able to start on next year’s winter collection.” Marinette took a break and stretched out her arms before continuing.  
      “Sounds like you’re rooting for some villains. Careful you don’t get yourself akumatized, Alya!”  
      “Psh, as if. There are actually some rumors going around that our lovely friend Hawkmoth is dead. The majority of hits to my blog right now are coming from people googling this,” Alya said, this time sitting up to look Marinette in the eye.  
      “I doubt he’s dead. But what’s he doing, then?” Marinette said, mainly to herself.  
      It was getting weird. She wished she could talk to Cat Noir, but their phones were only connected when both of them had transformed. Until she could figure out some other means to communicate with him, their connection was effectively dead. She had no idea where Cat Noir lived or what he even did during the day.  
      “Have there been any Cat Noir sightings?” Marinette asked as nonchalantly as she could. “He strikes me as the kind of person that doesn’t do well with being ignored for too long.”  
Marinette began to sweat. Why had just mentioning his name caused this panic to rise up in her chest? Was it panic? Furthermore, why did she even so much as care? The past two weeks had been absolutely blissful… Even a little boring. She hated to admit it, but she kind of missed Cat Noir. She had started making up god awful puns in his absence. Alya had pointed out that she had used the same pun at least four times already this past week.  
      “I don’t know. But there’s been this annoying troll on my blog that’s been claiming to be Cat Noir. He’s made like, five different accounts to spam messages directed at Ladybug. I’ve never met someone so… Desperate? I guess that’s the nicest way to put it. But I guess I should give the dude credit. He’s very persistent. Most trolls stop at two accounts.”  
      Marinette laughed.  
      She would have to check the comments section on Alya’s blog tonight. It actually did sound a bit like Cat Noir, and maybe he knew something.


	2. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit's starting to go down. The mayor disappears. Chloe's phone is low on battery. 
> 
> And our two cuties reunite... if only for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal is to update every Friday, PST. It kind of depends how busy I am with work and school. But I love this couple so much and I want to do them justice. ;_;
> 
> Hot off the press! (AKA only marginally proof-read).

The news coverage was insufferable. Hawkmoth was quick to quiet Tristian. “What happened to you is a complete miracle. Do you understand that? No one needs to know about me. If they do, you’ll lose everything. I can take just as easily as I can give,” Hawkmoth yelled into Tristian’s mind.

Tristian was sitting on a couch in the hospital waiting room looking at his hands.

“I won’t say anything,” Tristian said softly. “Why would I? You’ve given me so much.”

Hawkmoth didn’t reply. Had he even heard?

The doctors were baffled. They peeked into his eyes and shone lights. Renowned experts came to see Tristian. The story Tristian told was the same: soon after being punched, he could suddenly see. No, he didn’t know why. The first thing he saw? His reflection in the subway map. How was it? Weird. Did it hurt? Nope.

               Another doctor came in to see Tristian. He reached out to shake Tristian’s hand. Tristian took it and met the doctor’s eyes. In that brief moment, he was catapulted into the doctor’s life like someone watching a stop-motion animation. It was morning. He had a single cup of coffee for breakfast that morning with two packets of sugar, no cream. He parked his car in his colleague’s spot. Tiny, useless details flooded into Tristian’s mind as a serious of pictures shown in rapid succession.

               Suddenly, it stopped, and Tristian felt himself thrown back into his own body, into his own thoughts and it left him with an overpowering feeling of vertigo, as if he had been spinning in circles and had suddenly stopped.

               The doctor blinked and looked a little taken aback. He quickly cleared his throat and looked away.

               “Yours is a fascinating case. Thank you for coming by.” He left the room, stopping to glance at Tristian one last time as he pushed through the double doors to the hallway, an alarmed, wary look on his face.

               Tristian looked at his hand. It didn’t look any different.

               “I’m sure you’ve realized your usefulness, then?” Hawkmoth interrupted his thoughts. Tristian could only swallow back the lump that grew in his throat. Hawkmoth’s voice was like an electric shock.

               Had Hawkmoth seen everything?

               Tristian looked around. He was alone.

               “Actually, I _don’t._ How do you expect me to change Paris for the better? Shake hands with everyone and get a glimpse of their lives? That won’t change anything.” He slouched forward, resting his face in his palms.

               “You only need to find two people—Ladybug and Cat Noir. The so-called crime they fight are merely distractions, while people like you, the real victims, continue to be victimized. They continue to get all the credit while victims like you become another number, another unsolved case to be filed away.”

               Hawkmoth paused, letting the words settle in Tristian’s mind.

               “Theirs is a cartoon justice,” Tristian said. “If there is to be any real justice in Paris, they need to be removed.”

               _But first_ , he thought, _I need to unmask them._

***

               Marinette entered her living room, her school bag sliding off her shoulder. She let it flop onto the sofa as she went to turn on the television.

               She pulled out her history homework and absentmindedly flipped through her textbook while she watched TV.

               There was a special on the news about a boy who had mysteriously regained his eyesight following some sort of robbery. There was a press conference at the hospital, where the mayor was supposed to visit and bring him flowers. Manon’s mother, Nadja, was at the scene.

               Marinette was almost tempted to change the channel—after all, wherever the mayor went, Chloe wasn’t far behind. Instead she paused.

               “Yes, well, we’ve been waiting for some time now for the mayor to make his appearance,” Nadja went on, hand pressed to her ear, looking about herself worriedly. “But he actually hasn’t. No word from the mayor’s staff as to what’s happening, exactly—”

               There was an obnoxious amount of yellow pacing in the background. Definitely Chloe. The camera panned out to give a better look at the situation.

               Chloe stopped pacing when she saw the camera land on her.

               “Daddykins, please answer your phone! I’ve been stuck here for like, at least three hours, and my phone is running out of battery! And none of the people here have a charger that will work with my newest upgrade!” Chloe’s face held an exaggerated pout.

               By now Tikki had slipped out of Marinette’s bag.

               “What’s this?” Tikki said, pointing to the news.

               Marinette shrugged. “That’s how Chloe gets things done,” she said.

               Tikki shook her head. “No. I mean, what’s all this about? On the news? The mayor gone missing? Pretty certain that sounds like a job for Ladybug.”

               Marinette had just been about to take off her shoes. She paused, instead leaning close to the television. Behind Chloe sat a boy in a wheelchair. The camera zoomed onto his face. His eyes were a beautiful, pale green, outlined by what seemed to be purple. It was subtle, however. Perhaps a trick of the light? No, they definitely seemed to glow.

               The way he looked at the camera startled Marinette. It was almost as if this boy knew she was looking at him. He ran a hand through his rumpled brown hair, dislodging a combed-down cowlick.

               He didn’t look the least bit concerned. He even smirked. Something in her tightened.

               “Tikki… I think Hawkmoth is back from vacation.”

               Tikki nodded.

               Marinette checked around her to make sure she was alone.  “Tikki, spots on!”

               Marinette jumped from building to building as quickly as she could manage. Would Cat Noir show up? She had a lot to talk about with him. Would they even have time? Her heart beat even faster.

***

Cat Noir saw her approach. She was hard to miss. It could have been the bright red spandex, or it could have been the way she moved. Either way, he couldn’t stop staring.

He quickly elongated his baton so that he was at her level as she came crashing onto the roof. He had decided a while ago that he was going to play it cool. He had rehearsed their reunion in his head. _Oh hey, Ladybug. What a funny coincidence. I just happened to be here, you know, cat on the prowl and—_

That plan was immediately scrapped. Instead he gave her a deep hug, breathing in her hair and the curve of her neck. The soap she used smelled like sweet peas.

She immediately tensed. He let her go. Perhaps the smelling part was too much. Sometimes his cat side came out too strong.

“I’m sorry. I was so worried about you. I missed you so much—” suddenly he didn’t have words, or at least none that didn’t sound stupid. But right now he felt so stupid happy. Had he upset her?

Instead she looked up at Cat Noir and her entire face bloomed into a smile. She reached around his waist and gave him a tight hug.

 _He’s here. He’s solid and real,_ she thought. Then she immediately let him go, almost over-correcting her behavior.

He gripped her shoulder, a determined look on his face.

“We need to talk,” he said.


	3. The Baker's Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes confront their new villain-- and Marinette's identity is revealed.

"We need to talk."

“Yeah… I was thinking the same thing, too,” Ladybug replied. Cat Noir’s ears perked up at this. “Oh? You were missing me, too?” he said, a mischievous grin on his face. He felt that his bravado could come crumbling down any moment, his heart was beating so fast.

“Actually, I kind of was,” she said simply, and looked away. “But we don’t have time. The mayor’s gone missing and—”

He put his fingers to her lips. “Wait. Let me speak. I don’t know if we’ll have time later.”

He was so close. He took her hands in his.

“I’ve been a mess without you. For two weeks things went back to normal, and I never want that to happen again. I don’t like what used to be my ‘normal.’ I like having you as my partner in crime. Or well, not in crime, because we’re superheroes.” He was getting off track. The longer she stared at him with those large, gentle blue eyes of hers, the longer he was going to blather on.

“I love you,” he said.

Ladybug blinked. He actually, legitimately loved her? All of that flirting wasn’t just some sort of joke? She wished that she was in a video game, so at least she could pause it, collect her bearings, and then continue… and if things got too messy, simply reset the game.

This was a game she had no idea how to play.

Ladybug looked at Cat Noir’s hands, and she squeezed them. Just this subtle movement was enough to make Cat Noir’s heart surge with joy.

“You don’t have to tell me anything now,” Cat Noir replied, reaching out and touching her jaw. He quickly withdrew it. She swallowed.

“I know I’ve really put you on the spot,” he said. “Just think about it, okay? And no matter the outcome, I’ll still be your friend. Cat’s honor.” He raised his right hand.

Ladybug awkwardly laughed. It came out as nearly a squeak. Why was her heart pounding so much if she didn’t actually _like_ him?

She took a deep breath. “Cat… you don’t know who I really am. If you really knew who I am—well, I don’t think you’d be interested in me anymore.”

Cat Noir shook his head.

“I like you for the person you are. You’re witty, smart, kind, beautiful. All of it… and more. And I know this sounds kind of silly, but I really think I’ve met you before.”

His hands were sweating. It stuck to the fabric of his suit uncomfortably. Her face was indecipherable.

Ladybug took one his hands in her own and traced the arch of his knuckles with her index finger. She briefly lingered over his ring. He didn’t stop her.

Ladybug wouldn’t meet his eyes. “There’s a park off Gottleib Street. You probably remember it. It’s where we defeated Stormy Weather. Let’s meet there tonight, after our kwamis are all charged up again. There’s a bakery across the street. I’ll pick us up something good to eat.”

Recognition came upon his face. “I know that place,” Cat Noir said. “They’ve got an excellent quiche. I have a friend that lives there.”

Ladybug hesitated. “A friend?”

“What?” Cat Noir said. “I _do_ have friends, you know. Don’t look at me like that.”

***

When they arrived, the boy with the weird eyes was being interviewed. Ladybug was glad for the distraction. Her mind still buzzed over the implications of Cat Noir’s statement.

Shit. She knew Cat Noir out of the mask. Furthermore, they were _friends_.

               “Are you at all disappointed that the mayor did not show up?” Nadja asked. She pointed the microphone at the boy.

               “I’m not going to lie,” he said, and he shrugged. “I really was looking forward to meeting him. But I’m sure that Mr. Bourgeois has his reasons.” He turned and looked away, past the camera, towards Ladybug and Cat Noir. “Besides, Ladybug and Cat Noir have shown up. I’ve always wanted to meet them, so things are already looking to be in my favor.” He gave a small smile, and a dimple appeared on his left cheek.

               “Maybe it was a mistake,” Cat Noir said, looking at the boy closely. “Maybe Mr. Bourgeois legitimately had some sort of emergency—”

               “And neglected to tell everyone? Even his daughter, Chloe?” Ladybug said, looking skeptically at Cat Noir. “I doubt it. Don’t get distracted because the kid is cute,” she said.

               Cat Noir nearly choked. “What? You find him cute? I don’t get it. What has he got that I don’t? Brown hair? Because I can easily change that—”

               “Oh, my, God. Cat. I mean cute as in like… Teddy bear cute or something. Don’t go dying your hair.”

               Cat Noir ran his hands through his thick, messy blonde locks with something akin to a self-satisfied look on his face. “So you like it?”

               _Why does he have to do this now?_ Ladybug thought angrily. _And to think I even briefly missed him!_

               There was something about the kid she just didn’t trust. The purple rim around his irises were the same shade of purple as Hawkmoth, whenever he spoke through an akumatized victim. That did not just happen naturally.

               “Hi…” Ladybug said awkwardly, realizing that she did not know the boy’s name. She should’ve paid attention when she saw his segment on the news.

               “Tristian Delamar,” he said. He put out his right hand to shake.

               Ladybug reached out to shake his. She awkwardly realized half way there that she had her yo yo in her hand. It was too late to back down now without appearing rude. Instead he shook her hand, staring at the yo yo that was smack in the middle.

               “Sorry about that Tristian. I’m still kind of new to this whole superhero biz,” she said. Was the camera recording this? God, she hoped not.

               “That’s okay,” Tristian replied. “I’m new to all of this, too.” He was very pragmatic.

               Cat Noir quickly pushed through, his baton on his neck, with his hands draped over it, in a casual, haphazard way.

               “So, have your eyes always been like that?” he asked.

               “Cat—” Ladybug started, before she was cut off.

               “Like what?” Tristian asked.

               “With that purple rim?” Cat Noir bent closer.

               “I don’t think so. Granted, I couldn’t see before.”

“Oh. Right,” Cat Noir backed off. “Kinda forgot that part.”

Tristian put his hands in his pockets.

 _Well, now this is awkward,_ Ladybug thought. Furthermore, she was at a complete loss.

“Are you not going to introduce yourself?” Tristian asked, putting out his hand to shake.

Chloe pushed past Tristian, tragically and dramatically latching onto Ladybug.

“Ugh, Ladybug! What took you so long?” Chloe began.

Ladybug sighed.

“Well, whatever, I forgive you,” Chloe said. “Because I’m cool like that. But like, I can’t live without Daddykins. He is my only means of income. You have to find him.”

Tristian tapped Chloe’s shoulder. “Hi,” he said.

“What’s up with you?” she scoffed.

“What a coincidence. I was thinking the same thing,” Tristian replied. That dimple emerged again when he smiled. His eyes crinkled a bit at the sides. He was holding a laugh.

Ladybug snorted. This kid actually seemed kind of cool. Perhaps she really had overreacted. Then again, Tikki seemed suspicious of him and this situation. Her gut instinct was generally spot on.

_Oh my gosh, I accidentally made a pun in my head. It’s like Cat Noir has legitimately climbed into my brain._

“Excuse you,” Chloe huffed at Tristian.

Cat Noir interrupted the fuss. “Chloe, before we get off track, do you have any idea where your dad’s phone is?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve called it over and over and I would’ve heard it if it was close by--”

“Unless, of course, it was on silent,” Ladybug said. “Which would seem likely if he was about to make a TV appearance and didn’t want to be interrupted.”

“Where did you last see your father?” Cat Noir continued.

Chloe paused, looking down at her nails. “Umm… I think maybe backstage?”

“Take us there,” Ladybug said.

Chloe pushed through the stream of people, making a bee line straight for the door immediately off the stage where the podium still sat, with the bright lights still pointing directly at it.

They walked into a room filled with folding tables. There were several stacks of boxes in the far corner full of complementary promotional goodies, like T-shirts and keychains with the hospital’s logo on it. One of the boxes had been opened, and some of the lanyards inside hung out.

“He was sitting here, when I last saw him. He even left his plate of cheese and crackers unfinished.” She motioned to the abandoned plate.

“Try calling his phone again,” Cat Noir said.

“There’s no point. I already have like fifty something times,” Chloe whined.

“Just do it, Chloe,” Ladybug sighed. Cat Noir cast a look at her. He had always been suspicious of her extreme dislike and little patience for Chloe.

Chloe called her father’s phone again, showing Ladybug and Cat Noir her screen as she dialed.

Cat Noir immediately tensed. “Something’s buzzing,” he said, one of his cat ears twitching.

“Seriously? You can hear that?” Ladybug answered, completely astonished.

Cat Noir moved about the room, slowly heading toward a solitary table with a long oversized tablecloth sitting on it.

He pushed at the table and moved the table cloth. The table cloth hung weirdly, as if sitting on something unseen. The fold made it look partly like it was floating.

Cat Noir’s hands hit something soft. There was nothing there.

Ladybug hurried close. It looked like Cat Noir was doing an amazing job as a mime, the way he handled an item he couldn’t even see.

“This is something like the Mime,” Ladybug said, now crouching close to Cat Noir. “You know, Mylene’s father.”

“You think it’s his work?”

“It’s not like his usual.”

There was some muffled noises coming from under the table.

“Mmmph!” the table said.

“The table said something!” Cat Noir said. “Honestly, I’m not joking. And if I were, I that would’ve been one of my worst yet.”

“I think the Mayor is under the table. But invisible… somehow,” Ladybug whispered, mainly to herself.  At this point, anything seemed possible.

Cat Noir leaned close. “What’s that?” he asked. His face was mere inches from hers.

She pushed him away, feeling the start of a blush blossom on her cheeks.

They both yelped when the Mayor suddenly reappeared in the very spot that had been empty before. Cat Noir’s belt tail went straight up. If it had fur, doubtless it would’ve fluffed up.

The Mayor was tied up, the very sash he wore across his chest stuffed into his mouth. His feet and hands were tightly bound behind him with lanyards taken from one of the boxes of free stuff.

He wiggled and grunted when he realized he had been seen.

Cat Noir tore at the knots with his claws. Ladybug pulled the sash out of the Mayor’s mouth. He let out a long breath, but before he could talk, he immediately froze, then shook his head.

Ladybug turned. Tristian was by the door, Chloe held back by a long, thin sword. Cat Noir hesitated. The sword looked familiar. He was certain he had seen it somewhere… He certainly had never fought with a real sword before. His fencing classes were never meant to be for actual combat.

Tristian’s eyes no longer had the glowing purple rim. He certainly did not look like the typical villain. Except for the sword, he looked almost normal.

When the outline of Hawkmoth’s mask glowed faintly over Tristian’s face, there was no doubt left.

 _Don’t be hasty, Tristian,_ Hawkmoth said directly into his mind. _Stick to the plan and we can have this finished in no time at all. Then we both can move on with our lives. We had ourselves a deal._

Tristian only squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. He didn’t outwardly reply.

“Give me your miraculouses,” he said. The feeling he got when he had their undivided attention was thrilling, but also sickening. He hated holding someone at knife point. It was too much like what happened to him. He swallowed back the discomfort.

But it was also strangely therapeutic. He was not the little weak one this time. With this, he would rewrite that traumatic moment in his past. In it, he would not be the victim.

But it still felt so wrong.

Cat Noir immediately extended his baton so it reached backward, preparing to dislodge the sword from its precarious position by Chloe’s neck. Suddenly the sword wasn’t there. Cat Noir immediately backtracked. His baton could easily smash into Chloe if the sword wasn’t actually there. He fell to the side. Where had the sword gone?

Tristian’s eyes were glowing purple again. His posture hadn’t changed, and his hands still held something in their grip. Had he made the sword invisible? Of course. It _had_ to be the sword.

He pushed Chloe to the side and flew at Cat Noir. Hawkmoth had warned him about Cat Noir’s baton. He would have to be careful. Cat Noir would probably be the easiest to tackle first. If he could reach his hand and shake it, he could slip the ring off. Even if that didn’t work, he would still be able to gleam some information about Cat Noir’s identity. It was all about the right timing.

Ladybug launched her yoyo at Tristian, latching onto his arm. She reeled him toward her. He fought, the backs of his rubber sneakers squeaking loudly on the polished wood floor.

He wasn’t prepared. He didn’t have enough experience with his new power—and more importantly, new world—so he was at a severe disadvantage.

But it would be okay. It was all part of the plan, he reminded himself.

The sword slipped out of his hands and thudded into a table, still invisible. A slit appeared in the table indicating where his sword had stuck.

Tristian released the invisibility. The sword reappeared in its entirety.

Instantly, his eyes lost that glow. Ladybug understood.

“When his eyes are glowing purple, that means he’s turned something invisible!” she yelled out.

 _Hawkmoth was right about her,_ Tristian thought. _She catches on quick._

 _Where’s the akuma?_ Ladybug thought, frantically looking about Tristian as he fell against her. His eyes immediately lit up. Ladybug’s yoyo vanished.

In her panic she dropped it. She heard it clatter to the floor somewhere by her feet. She kicked her feet around, desperate to find it. Tristian pulled the yoyo towards himself. She still had its string wrapped around her middle finger, but this was useless. Now she was dragging around excess baggage that could eventually trip her if she wasn’t careful. She was effectively weaponless.

Cat Noir launched himself to Ladybug’s aid. In a brief moment, Cat Noir’s baton turned invisible. Just as it did so, Ladybug’s yoyo reappeared.

 _Well, at least he can only make things invisible one at a time,_ she thought. _I can probably work with that._

Cat Noir hung onto the invisible baton until he finally fell over. The baton fell with a loud crash on the table beside him.

“We need to find his akuma!” Ladybug yelled.

               He hurriedly grabbed at where he thought his baton would be, but there was nothing there.

               The Mayor had climbed out from under the table and ran towards his daughter. Tristian did nothing to stop them. Chloe hugged her father and cried.

               “Escape now!” Ladybug yelled to them. “We’ll come out—I promise! Just get to safety!”

               Cat Noir was still frantically looking for his baton, like a cat chasing after an elusive red dot. He was now completely open. Even if he somehow found his baton, he wouldn’t be able to figure out how long to make it. He would have to make do with his hands for the time being, at least until Tristian released the invisibility.

               Tristian now had Ladybug’s yoyo in his grip. The string was still attached to her finger, at the very least. She pulled at it. She had completely forgotten about Tristian’s sword. Now it hung above her like a guillotine. She looked at Tristian, panic in her eyes. He had time to slash at her, to cut her down, but instead he just stared at her, his brows wrinkling with something like concern. His eyes held some sort of inexplicable sadness.

               Hawkmoth yelled into Tristian’s mind. _Just do it! Do not hesitate!_

               A surge of panic went through Cat Noir like a lightning bolt. This was it. If he didn’t do something now, he could lose Ladybug forever, never mind a silly two weeks.

               “No!” The cry ripped through his throat, desperate and torn. The hopelessness that threatened to consume him was actually painful. He felt it as a tight, sharp lump in his throat. It would suffocate him.

               “Cataclysm!” he yelled, and felt the power surge into his hand. He sprang at Tristian, animal-like with rage.

               Instantly the sword turned invisible. Cat Noir was now aiming at nothing, it looked like. If he aimed it closer to Tristian’s hand, perhaps he could still do it, but it was still too close to Ladybug’s face. He couldn’t take the risk.

               Instead he slammed his hand into the hardwood floor just beneath Tristian. It crumpled and splintered away, and spread to the rest of the floor. They all fell a step or two to the concrete foundation of the building. This was just enough for Tristian to lose his grip on the sword. It fell, and he let Ladybug go.

               “I think his akuma is in his sword!” Cat Noir yelled to Ladybug.

               There was a mess of rubble about them. The boxes had fallen over, spilling their contents everywhere. The electrical wiring around the lower walls had been exposed. Dust hung heavy in the air.

               Cat Noir spotted his baton as it shined in the light, stuck amongst a pile of T-shirts. He quickly lunged forward and grabbed it.

               Tristian reached for his sword, still invisible to everyone else. Ladybug now had her yoyo back.  She threw it at Tristian’s raised arm, where she reasoned his sword would have to be. It caught the sword, wresting it from Tristian’s grip. In the same move, she threw it against the wall, hard enough to bring out any little akuma.

               Nothing happened.

               Panic was now setting in. Cat Noir’s miraculous beeped.

               Suddenly, Tristian crumpled to the ground. Tristian sat down amongst the dust. He held his right wrist.

               Ladybug slowly approached Tristian. He looked up at her, his eyes rimmed red, tears streaking down his dust-covered face.

               For a brief moment Ladybug remembered the fear and sadness on Tristian’s face, the reluctance to strike her.

               She held out her hand. Tristian looked at her, and then took it.

               Suddenly, snippets of her last day came rolling out of her, like pages in a flip book. There was her talking with Tikki, her placing cookies on a rack in her parent’s bakery. There was her in school, writing her name on the top corner of the paper—

               Hawkmoth was quick to yell. _Marinette! Her name is Marinette! Just a silly little baker’s daughter!_

               Immediately she let go. She almost fell over, but steadied herself. “What was that?” she said between gasps.

               Cat Noir rushed to her side and held her.

               “Careful—don’t shake his hand. He can see into your mind or… something like that.”

               Tristian looked up at her and smiled. It was like he had become a completely different person.

               “Hello, Marinette. My name is Private Eye,” he said.

               She immediately froze. Cat Noir held tight onto her.

               For a brief moment, Tristian’s eyes glowed an iridescent purple, and suddenly he vanished. Neither of them went after him. It wasn’t until the sound of his footsteps disappeared that they truly knew he was gone.

               What had just happened?

               Cat Noir’s miraculous beeped one final time, jarring them back to reality.

               “I won’t leave you, Marinette,” he said. He held onto her as his transformation wore off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! If you've stuck with me this long, thank you!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! 
> 
> Gosh I ship this ship too hard. I'm supposed to be sleeping right now.


	4. Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's what you read ML fan fiction for: The Reveal. 'Nuff said.
> 
> ps. please pretend the kind of weird formatting doesn't exist. I gave up.

Ladybug wanted to lie down. Nothing was making sense. The only constant was Cat Noir’s arms around her. Being held by him felt so reassuring.

               Cat Noir’s miraculous made one final beep and the change came upon him like a wave returning to the sea. Her heart was pounding quickly in her chest.

               Should she look? They were never supposed to know each other’s secret identities, right? She kept her eyes down, looking to the side where Tristian—no, Private Eye, had last been.

                “You can look at me,” Cat Noir said, his face right next to Ladybug’s ear. He put a finger beneath her jawline and she followed it, until she met his eyes.

               The mask faded away, and Cat Noir’s hair fell into a simple part, no longer ruffled and messy.  His cheeks were starting to turn pink.

               Ladybug held back a gasp. She felt herself go limp. She could’ve fallen over if it weren’t for his strong grip around her waist.

               “Adrien?” she said at first, more as a question. He smiled in response.

               Her cheeks were definitely burning, she was sure of it. It probably blended in with her mask, making her one big, solid red ladybug.

               There was absolutely no going back now. Her mind flashed through all that she had been through with Cat Noir—wait, strike that—Adrien.

_Adrien?!_

               “Look what you did to her, Adrien,” a voice from next to Adrien’s head spoke, “she’s broken now.”

               The little black kwami flew to the front and looked at Ladybug, clearly disinterested. He stopped to sniff the air, his little whiskers perking up.

               “Oh? What’s this?” he zoomed across the disheveled room and found the plate of crackers and cheese, which had now spilled all over the table.

               “If I had standards, I wouldn’t eat these because they’re dirty.” He paused thoughtfully. “Thankfully, I don’t.”

               “Ugh, Plagg. Really?” Adrien began. “Way to kill the moment.”  
               Ladybug stood up, wiping dust from her suit. _Not that it made much of a difference,_ she thought.

               “Adrien,” Ladybug began, drawing his attention back to her. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m so sorry for everything—for all the times I dropped you, for that one time I accidentally swung you into a light pole—oh my gosh I feel so stupid.”

               Adrien shrugged. “Sort of funny that I fell in love with you despite all that,” he said, looking away a bit sheepishly.

               Was he… embarrassed? It didn’t seem possible that Adrien could get even more attractive, but when he blushed and looked away, Marinette felt her mind turn to mush.  

               No, she had to snap out of it. Right now Cat Noir was at his most vulnerable: as Adrien, and she had to protect him. She couldn’t let his identity leak. There was too much at risk here. It was one thing if her identity reached Hawkmoth—she could deal with that—but something else entirely if Adrien were put into danger.

               “Adrien, if someone comes in and sees you, your identity could be compromised. You should hurry and transform. Your kwami… Plagg, was it? Well, he’s eaten, so you really should—”

               “Ladybug… no, Marinette,” he said, and he started to smile, “wait… before anything else. Just hear me out. I just want to say that I’m glad it was you.”

               Ladybug started fussing with her yoyo, anything to distract her from the sudden and overwhelming exhilaration she didn’t know what to do with.

               “Hah. Me too,” Ladybug said. “I mean, not that I’m glad it was me, but like, because why would I care about that, hah, what I mean is that I’m glad it was… you?” She was blathering now.

               _Just stop talking Ladybug,_ she told herself. _You only make it worse._

               Adrien approached her and took her hand in his, brought it to his lips, and gave it the most gentle of kisses. It was subtle and feather light and just made Ladybug absolutely desperate.

               He smiled when Ladybug didn’t push him away. This was a good sign.

               He quickly turned to look at Plagg, who was shoving his face full of what looked to be a solid wheel of camembert.

               “Plagg, claws out!”

               Instantly Plagg was sucked away with a pitiful whine, and Adrien transformed into Cat Noir. He flexed his claws.

               Ladybug kept herself from laughing. “Do you do that every time you transform?” she asked.

               Cat Noir shrugged. “Maybe,” he answered, a mischievous grin on his face.

               Almost immediately, police flooded the room, a swarm of reporters not far behind. It was back to business, and it felt too soon.

***

               It was dark as she sat in the park. Her conversation with Cat Noir—the one on the rooftops, that is—felt like ages ago. Did he still remember? Would he show up?

               And, most importantly, did she have an answer for him? Her mind had been completely elsewhere what with her identity being compromised. She still wasn’t sure what to do about that. Cat Noir insisted he stay by her, but she had pushed him away. It was too impractical. It was putting him in danger, too.

               “Tikki,” she whispered into her bag.

               Tikki quickly popped out. “Do you see him coming?” she asked, eagerly flitting about, looking every which way.

               Marinette fumbled with the ribbon that tied the box of macarons closed. She bit her lip.

               “Do I look okay?” she asked Tikki. “Do I have anything in my teeth?”

She forced a smile for Tikki, all while her heart pounded out of control.

“You look fine,” Tikki replied, lightly pushing an errant hair to the side.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Marinette said. “I keep thinking this is a dream, and that any moment I’ll wake up and—”

“And what, my lady?” Cat Noir slyly came up behind her.

Marinette nearly jumped out of her skin. Tikki instantly dashed into the bag.

He presented her with a bouquet of roses. Marinette took it. Their hands briefly met and she withdrew her hand quickly.

 _Agh, what was that about?_ She thought to herself. _Now he’s going to think I don’t like him._

Cat Noir clearly noticed. He looked a bit dejected, his cat ears a little more forward.

“No, no, that’s not it at all,” Marinette said, and she patted the seat next to her. “Sorry, I’m just not good at this thing,” she said.

Cat Noir took a seat next to her. He was mindful of the space between them.

“Actually, I’m not either,” he said truthfully. He pretended to distract himself with retying the bow on the pastry box Marinette had brought.

“You aren’t?” Marinette’s voice came out more like a gasp. The incredulity was apparent in her voice.

“Nope. I know as Cat Noir I don’t really give off that vibe. But at least when I have the mask on, I feel like I can.  You can’t see the blushing, for one thing, and since the suit is black, sweat won’t show.”

Marinette laughed. It came out higher than she expected it to. “Well, if it makes any difference, I think you do quite well without the mask.”

“Well, if you think that, you should see me in swimsuit season.” He winked at her.

The brief image this conjured in Marinette’s mind made her blush. She would very much like to see him in swimsuit season.

He leaned toward her, that familiar, mischievous smile of his practically glowing in the dark.

“Well, that’s too bad. Swimsuit season is still pretty far off,” Marinette said, faking a sigh. The embarrassment nearly set on her immediately. Did she really say that? She almost immediately turned away.

“Oh?” Cat Noir leaned toward her. “What was that just now?”

“Um… macaron?” she hurriedly answered. She quickly turned back, now holding her box of macarons.

Cat Noir shrugged, then looked down at the box and took an orange macaron. Marinette was still holding the roses, so she set the bouquet leaning against the park bench and took a macaron as well.

“I wish things turned out differently,” Marinette said as she wiped away a crumb from her lips. She didn’t hide the sadness from her voice.

“What do you mean?” Cat Noir asked. The nervousness that had been abating was coming back.

               “I never wanted my identity to be revealed this way,” she said. “I never wanted it to be revealed by a villain. Ever since Lady Wi-Fi, it’s always been present in my mind.”

               She paused for a moment. Cat Noir hesitated. Was she going to say more?

“And… well, this part is really embarrassing, so promise not to laugh,” she began again. She looked at Cat Noir and raised an eyebrow. He smiled back gently.

“I’ve always imagined some completely different, insanely magical way of confessing to you. Like with a poem, and then you meet me at a fountain… and we kiss. It’s stupid and so Hollywood, I know,” Marinette said. She laughed softly, and let it subside into a sigh.

               “Confess?” Cat Noir looked dumbfounded for a moment. The meaning behind those words fell upon him suddenly and he felt giddy and stupid.

It _did_ mean what he thought it meant, right?

“I have a pretty massive crush on you, Adrian,” she said softly.  Instantly she felt lighter. She met his eyes and quickly looked away. “Cat Noir’s not too shabby either,” she said, and she playfully bumped against him.

Just that brief touch was enough to remind the both of them how close they were to each other. She looked at him from beneath her bangs, feeling the heat rise up her neck.

Cat Noir leaned toward her, his eyes glued to her lips. “Let’s do it then. Let’s kiss by a fountain.”

Marinette’s heart jolted in her chest. It felt like her stomach flipped inside of her, much like the feeling of being tickled. It was foreign and sudden. She relished it. She leaned closer to him, drawn by the intoxicating effect he had on her.

He smiled, and then put a finger to her lips in the most gentlest of ways. He couldn’t touch them completely; he felt that if he did, he would burn up.

Marinette was acutely aware of her lips. They felt starved, hungry.

“And if that’s still not perfect,” he started whispering, “we can confess on the Eiffel Tower. We can do it all over again—everything. I’ll pretend that I don’t know your secret identity, and you the same. We can kiss just as the Tower lights up. I’ll do it however many times you need to.”

He cracked a small grin. “And I will love every minute of it.”

Marinette was certain she had a fever. All of her felt hot now. It was a frustrating heat, one she couldn’t just sit with.

“How about now?” she said. Did her voice come out raspy? It sounded flustered, out of breath.

Her voice stirred something desperate and primeval in him. He didn’t wait a moment.

He kissed her lips, gently and chaste at first, taking his time. She was quick to respond, turning her head to deepen the kiss. Suddenly there was nothing in her mind, all of her being completely absorbed in this kiss, in deepening it, and getting closer. Right now nothing else mattered.

Neither of them noticed the box of macarons fall off the bench and spill. Cat Noir pressed against her, reaching his arms around her waist, feeling her respond to his touch and lean into him more, effectively closing the gap. It wasn’t enough—it would never be enough.

His lips felt swollen and numb, clumsy with their newfound purpose.

Marinette tilted her head forward, just enough to subtly break the kiss, so she could take a deep breath in. Cat Noir breathed in and let it out with a tiny laugh. Marinette looked at him and smiled. Cat Noir was enchanted all over again: it was the very same smile that had ensnared him so completely and made his thoughts turn to mush.

“I think we should re-do it, this time by the Eiffel Tower,” Marinette said.

Cat Noir was just about to respond when somebody showed up, their steps soft on the grass.

“Well, this is awkward,” the voice said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I'm trying to practice writing romance things because it's completely out of my comfort zone and forte, so you probably noticed me stumbling about with it. I want to broaden my horizons.
> 
> P.S. AO3 keeps changing my formatting ugggh but I'm tired of fixing it on here. -_-*
> 
> I hope to see you next week. Maybe. No pressure. But I'll be here. :B


	5. A Simple Demand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Cat Noir are interrupted by someone who has a note for Marinette--with a very unusual demand.

Private Eye’s steps were quiet on the grass. He finally stepped into the light from the street lamp, his shadow stretching towards Marinette and Cat Noir.

Cat Noir instantly stood up, pushing Marinette behind him, brandishing his baton.

“Wow, slow down there, kitty.” He spoke nonchalantly, as if running into an old friend in the supermarket. his eyes normal and human. “I didn’t come here to fight. If I had, wouldn’t it be smarter to ambush you two or something instead of pretty much announcing my arrival?”

               Technically this was true, Cat Noir thought, but he still kept quiet, the baton tight in his grip.

               “What do you want?” he hissed.

               “Actually, I was going to drop off this letter.” He took the letter out of the small pocket in his vest and waved it in the air.

               Marinette stood up, and pushed Cat Noir to the side gently. He looked at her with concern in his eyes.

               “I’ll take it,” she said, reaching out for it. Her identity was no longer at stake. She had to make sure that Adrien’s was protected at all costs.

               “It’s addressed to you. Or at least, I’m assuming it is, since I didn’t write it.”

               “You didn’t write it?” Cat Noir asked.

               “No. How could I have? I’ve only had sight for roughly a week or so, not enough time to learn the entire alphabet and then some. Braille is different,” he said, shrugging.

               “Oh, right. I forgot about that part.”

               “You strike me as the kind of person who forgets a lot of things,” Tristian said, smiling as he handed the envelope to Marinette.

               “What was that?” Cat Noir asked, stepping closer to Tristian, this time with the baton extended towards him.

               Marinette looked closely at the handwriting on the envelope. It was neat and straightforward, written in all caps with a rushed hand.

               “Do you know what it says?” Marinette asked Tristian.

               “Actually, I don’t,” he replied.

               Marinette began reading aloud.

               “Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I send my apologies for not meeting you in person, but I hope the friend I’ve sent is just as pleasant. I would rather get this issue settled with the least amount of mess as possible, so I’m offering you an easier alternative: if you can give me—” she immediately stopped reading aloud when she came across Cat Noir’s name. She had to consciously contain her shock. She hurriedly scanned the rest of the text, her eyes skipping words entirely. “If you give me Cat Noir’s miraculous, I will not ask you for your own. If that is not enough of a lure, I will guarantee the safety of Adrien Agreste. Otherwise, he is fair game,” the rest of it read.

               She felt herself go cold. While Hawkmoth still didn’t know about Adrien’s double life, he did seem to know about her massive crush on Adrien… and now Adrien was in danger.

               “Well? What else does it say?” Cat Noir said, moving closer, trying to catch a peek at the writing. She immediately closed the paper up.

               “Just the same, silly usual. ‘Give me your miraculous’ thing. A waste of time, actually,” Marinette said, deliberately keeping her face neutral.

               What was Hawkmoth trying to accomplish by sending a letter? He could just as easily spoken through Private Eye as he did most of his akumatized pawns.

               “Well then, I’ll be off,” Tristian said. “I don’t think there’s anything else for me here.”

               “You’re not going to try to steal our Miraculouses?” Cat Noir asked.

               “No. Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m tuckered out.” He said it with a smile, but one that looked weary.

               Tristian looked at Marinette one final time before turning and walking away. He didn’t go invisible. They watched him till he disappeared around the corner.

               “I don’t understand him,” Cat Noir said. Tristian just had to pick the worst possible time to make an appearance.

               Marinette’s mind was buzzing. Where had Tristian gotten the note? Did that mean he made contact with Hawkmoth at some point? Did he then know where Hawkmoth lived? Perhaps even his secret identity? None of Hawkmoth’s other akumatized victims had that kind of access.

               Cat Noir stood directly behind Marinette, his hands on her shoulders, peering into the contents of the partially folded letter.

               She could feel his warm breath against her collarbone. It was hard not to get distracted, but now more than ever, she needed to keep her cool.

               She wanted to tell him what the letter said, but she had an awful feeling that if she did, he would insist that he could handle it, in that cocky, self-righteous way. She could almost imagine the smile he'd use, too. And he would be taken from her. She absolutely could not let that happen.

               “What did the rest of the letter say?” Cat Noir asked, breaking through her thoughts.

               She scooted away. God, lying to him was awful. This was not how she wanted her relationship to start.

               “My family is in danger, Adrien,” she whispered. “With my identity compromised, Hawkmoth said that he will go after those I’m close to. Actually…  it’s not just my family, you’re in danger, too.”

               “But nobody knows about us,” he said, his lips teasing her neck, ending in a kiss that caused her stomach to flip.  
              “Except Tristian. And by extension, Hawkmoth,” Marinette said, forcing herself to concentrate. She wanted to just give in. It would be so easy.

               “So they might know about Cat Noir and Marinette. They know nothing about Adrien and Marinette,” Cat Noir said.

               “You’re still a target, Adrien.”

               “Is that what Hawkmoth said in that letter?” Cat Noir laughed, and he gave her a quick squeeze.

               “Yes, actually. Adrien Agreste, not just Cat Noir, is in danger, too.”

               “No, not really. Have you seen my house? The security system is the only one in its kind. And I’m Cat Noir, remember? If I’m not in the trendy fortress, then I’ve got a baton and the ability to destroy anything.”

               Marinette let out the breath she had been inadvertently holding.

               “I guess you’re right. And you’re absolutely certain--”

               Cat Noir slid a hand around Marinette’s waist. His touch on the small of her back felt electric. Her heart began to pound and she instantly felt hot. There was too much happening right now.

               He rested his head right besides hers. “I’ll stay by your side. Wherever you want me, Marinette, I’ll be there.” Cat Noir came close to almost purring. Was he doing that on purpose? Or did it just come with the costume? And why did it work on her?

               He could feel the anxiety within her, and he couldn’t figure out why it was there. The letter had clearly said something more. The sheer amount of text on it would’ve been far too long for a simple threat. Whatever it was, she was trying to protect him. He could just tell.

               It was so infuriating, that stubborn, protective streak she had. Infuriating… and also absolutely irresistible.

               She relaxed into him, catching him by surprise. He held her closer. He would be the one to protect her, he decided.

“I can’t leave my family unprotected,” Marinette whispered.

Cat Noir nodded. “Then I will stay with you,” he said.

Now she turned into him. “But you can’t do that. What if your father finds out?”

“He hasn’t found out about me being Cat Noir. He’s never around to notice much of anything.”

“I don’t know how anybody could not notice you,” Marinette said, rumpling his hair. He distracted her with a kiss—one that caught her off guard, one she couldn’t prepare her lips for, and as soon as his lips were there, they were gone, leaving her chest feeling heavy and desperate.

Suddenly Marinette stiffened.

“What?” Cat Noir asked, immediately feeling panic rise in his chest. Had he done something wrong? Did she smell the Camembert he kept on him at all times?

“You said you’d stay with me, right? I’m not 100% what that entails,” she said.

“Ha. En _tails_ ,” Cat Noir said, pointing at his tail. Marinette teasingly smacked his shoulder.

“It was an unintentional pun,” she said, before going quiet. Cat Noir looked her in the eyes, searching for anything to clue him in to her innermost thoughts.

“What?” he finally asked. “Honestly, I got distracted by the pun and now I don’t remember what you said before that.”

Marinette let out a relieved giggle. It sounded so stupid. She knew it.

“Oh never mind. Just me overthinking things. I was worried a bit about you staying with me. You know, what does it mean. Like does it mean we’re together as in people dating or just people that sometimes kiss or--”

“Both? I was thinking people who kissed and dated each other,” Cat Noir said.

“Oh. Right. So like, girlfriend—”

“And boyfriend,” Cat Noir finished.

Was this really happening? And was Cat Noir just as anxious as her? She had faced many opponents in life threatening situations and never before had she felt so nervous… but absolutely jubilant.

She needed to get home and rest. She could feel the fatigue heavy under her skin. It had been an almost sixteen hour day and she had only gotten by on pure adrenaline, which she felt slipping out of her by the minute.

“Okay, Cat,” she said, smiling, letting her exhaustion slip into her voice, “I’m heading home now. You coming?”

“Wow, moving fast. I can’t say that I don’t mind,” Cat Noir said with a sly smile.

“Keep dreaming, lover boy. I have a couch with a cute little umbrella on it, and if you’re good, I’ll even give you a blanket,” she said.

“You’re so cruel,” he said overdramatically. “But I absolutely love it.” He reached towards Marinette, and slipped into his arms, holding the note from Hawkmoth behind the bouquet he had given her.

Soon they were on the rooftops of Paris, making their way to her balcony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been super late with this. I have a super huge test this Monday (June 6th) that I've been studying for.... for like 4+ months? And then freaking and out and cramming the last three weeks. So thank you for being patient and reading this far. ^^;;
> 
> I may be late with the next two chapters, FYI. But I haven't forgotten, I promise. :3
> 
> Also the new ladybug spoiler pics on twitter look adorable. I don't know how legit it all is, but still cute nonetheless. 
> 
> I can't figure out the formatting on this site. When I copy and paste from Word into the Rich Text area, it warps everything STILL. So I apologize for random tabs and paragraphs looking wonky. :/


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